


first thanksgiving

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attraction, Bonding, Cooking, F/M, Ficlet, First Meetings, Flirting, Pre-Relationship, Sharing Body Heat, Snowed In, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: Nancy tries to stay away from the cute grad student who lives in her dorm, but fails miserably.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published at my Nancy Drew fanfic tumblr, nancydrewdiary.

He’s off limits, for a few reasons.

He lives just down the hall from her, so if something goes wrong, she can’t just walk away and forget it. He’s also two years older than she is; he’s working on his master’s and she’s a junior, still undergrad. When it comes to looks? He’s incredibly gorgeous. The first time she saw him in the fall, she was half-convinced that he _had_ to be full of himself—because she would have been, if she had been that beautiful. He’s light-years out of her league.

But Bess drags Nancy to a keg party at the next dorm a month into the semester and Ned’s there—without the tall redhead Nancy had seen coming in and out of his suite several times, mostly late at night and the following morning. He doesn’t stay long, but Nancy finds a way to strike up a conversation, telling herself the entire time that it won’t pan out, she just needs to give up. Then he tells her he’s from Mapleton.

After that, he seems to make more excuses to come by her suite and make sure everything is okay—technically he’s not RA of their section, but he says it’s just to be helpful, and she’s afraid to think it’s anything else. Bess is convinced that he _likes_ her. Nancy denies it every time.

But Bess and George are good—and Bess is especially adept at twisting her cousin’s arm. Bess manages to wrangle an invitation to an outing with Ned and his friends, to a pub crawl they technically aren’t quite old enough to legally participate in. Nancy has a few beers, they end up at a pool hall, and _God,_ he’s so handsome when he smiles, and even she can’t deny that he’s looking at her a lot.

“So why are you in the dorms? Why not get an apartment?” she asks, when they’re taking a break and observing the game.

He shrugs. “I was in a frat when I was undergrad and I’m used to a lot of people being around, I guess. And it feels good, to help people.”

She nods and smiles. “I know what you mean.”

Nancy is incredibly busy with her schoolwork and so is Ned; one night during a coffee run she picks up an extra cup and brings it by his room, and the smile that lights up his face makes her grin in return. They do that kind of thing for each other, and though they have the occasional study date, between everything else, Nancy still can’t shake the feeling that she just doesn’t have the time to commit to a serious relationship—and Ned is worth as much attention as she can give him.

A few weeks before Thanksgiving, he offers to share his car and take her back to River Heights, since it’s on his way, and she agrees happily; being alone during the car ride will mean time they can talk, and she’s always starved for time with him.

Then she stumbles onto a case, a few days before Thanksgiving.

Nancy has a bad habit of ignoring the weather forecast unless it has something to do with the case she’s working on; she has a bad habit of ignoring _everything_ when she’s working on a case. Distantly she remembers that Wednesday is important, but she’s working on the case and a report her professor allowed her to use an extension on, and by the time all the loose ends are wrapped up and the report is submitted, it’s Wednesday morning at ten o'clock.

Campus is quiet, almost eerily so. Worse than that, the sky is a baleful, glaring gray—and the snow has already begun.

Nancy stands up from her desk with a gasp of surprise when she hears a tap at her window. She opens the suite door to see Ned standing there. “Hey, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She shakes her head, sweeping her hair out of her face. “It’s fine. God, I’m so sorry, you wanted to leave last night…”

He shrugs. “I had some assignments to work on. But you do realize we’re stranded here, right?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“You didn’t get my texts?”

“My phone…” She flies back to her room and Ned follows her into the suite; everyone else is gone, and it’s almost too still. She finds her phone in her coat pocket, muffled by her mittens, all the power drained. “Oh no.”

Ned leans against her doorway, a small smile on his face. He looks effortlessly handsome in his jeans, a burgundy sweater and a dark coat, a light dusting of ice and snow just turning to beads of water in his dark hair. “You really do get focused, huh.”

She gives him a little smile, collapsing onto the foot of her bed with a sigh. “Yeah. Bess and George, my dad and Hannah, they’re used to it… but it’s been worse this year. With the classes and everything…”

He nods. “So a massive storm has already closed the highway,” he tells her, his tone conversational. “We can’t get home, at least not today, and they’re talking about more snow and ice tonight.”

She gazes up at him, the realization dawning on her face. “Oh, Ned… and if we’d left last night you’d be home…”

“And you would too,” he points out, crossing his arms. “It’s not a big deal, Nan. I have faith that we’ll get there tomorrow night, in time for leftovers.”

She sighs. “I really owe you, Nickerson.”

He shakes his head. “No big deal, Drew. _But_ … I’m getting kind of sick of dining hall meals, so maybe we could go for a walk, pick up some ingredients and make our own Thanksgiving meal. What do you think?”

She had to laugh. “Do we even have any pots and pans in the kitchen?”

“A few. We have an oven with a stove on top and a microwave… and whatever’s in our microfridges. You up for it?”

She’s a little drunk with sleep deprivation and adrenaline, and the high she feels from being around him. “Sure. It sounds great.”

Hannah would surely cluck at them, and Ned says his mother would too; when they return from the store, bundled up against the cold and wind and dump their purchases on the tiny table in the kitchen, they’re both grinning, and she thinks that maybe he feels that same almost painful awareness of her that she does of him. They bought thick-cut turkey breast already cooked and meant for sandwiches, containers of mashed potatoes—Ned insisted on at least two packages, saying he would likely finish one off all by himself—and peas and carrots. The deli macaroni and cheese looks like it might be okay, and the sweet Hawaiian rolls aren’t what Nancy normally has at Thanksgiving, but Ned’s eyes lit up when he saw them.

They divide up tasks and search the cabinets and their rooms for bowls, plates, spoons and knives; Ned has to borrow bowls from two people who stayed in his suite during the break instead of returning home, and in return they promise a plate of improvised Thanksgiving dinner.

Nancy looks at Ned with a gasp when she’s gathering the ingredients for the stuffing. “Cranberry sauce!”

“Ahh,” he replies, pulling the last two cans out of the bag. “Whole-berry and smooth. What do I get?”

“For being so thoughtful?” She reaches up, urging him to duck down, and gives him a kiss on the cheek that leaves them both blushing.

The last dish is almost ready when Ned holds up a hand. The tiny kitchen was cold when they walked in with their bags, but now it’s warm and full of their laughter. She’s a little disappointed that she’s not home now, but she’s far more excited to be with him. She quirks her eyebrow at him when he walks toward the door. “It’s almost finished! Where are you going?”

“Be right back,” he says with a little wave.

Nancy swipes at her cheek and feels something gritty; she chuckles when she looks down and sees some breadcrumbs on her hand. They have likely cooked _way_ too much, but some of it is already promised, and Ned has a bottomless appetite. The rolls and macaroni and cheese are warm, the peas and carrots piping-hot, the stuffing almost ready. The cranberry sauce is in bowls, and she takes the turkey out of the microwave. Ned’s suggestion that bacon might be the perfect side dish made her laugh, but it has made the kitchen smell great.

He comes back with two candles. “From the last time the power went out,” he explains.

“Do you know something I don’t?” she says, but a glance at the sky tells her that the storm is far from over. “Were we lucky to finish everything?”

Before he can reply, the timer goes off and she reaches for the improvised oven mitt. Instead of apple pie, they made apple turnovers from a store-bought container of perforated dough and filling; Ned reaches for the caramel and she turns at the same time, and her body is pressed against his for a moment. She looks up into his face, her lips parted.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” he murmurs, and something in his deep voice and the expression in his eyes makes her shiver.

The oven cooks a little hot and the bottoms of the turnovers are a little darker than they wanted, but Nancy shrugs it off. She’s proud of what they did, even if it’s nowhere near what Hannah undoubtedly has prepared. Ned lights the candles before they sit down at the tiny table, the top of the stove cluttered with discarded bowls and packages, the room smelling like warm apple and cinnamon and cranberry sauce.

Ned raises his glass of sparkling grape juice. “To Thanksgiving,” he says, and he pauses before he speaks again. “To our first Thanksgiving.”

She smiles. “And to many more,” she says. “With any luck the next one will be a bit more conventional.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. This one has been a lot of fun.”

She clicks her glass against his, and once they take their first bites, they have to laugh. It definitely isn’t at all what their parents are preparing, not at all; the deli macaroni and cheese is a little bland, and the stuffing is a little dry, but they made it together and she doesn’t care. At the end of the meal their fingers are covered in caramel and apple turnover filling, and she’s completely stuffed. Ned spoons up his last bite of vanilla ice cream swirled with caramel from the turnovers, then sits back with a sigh.

“Mmm. Not half-bad, Nickerson.”

He grins, patting his stomach. “I am the master of reheating stuff in the microwave,” he tells her. “Stoves and ovens? Grills? Not so much.”

“Not even after being a frat boy?”

He shrugs. “I get distracted easily. Especially when there’s a beautiful woman in the room.”

She blushes and ducks her head. “Guess we should start clearing up…”

“Not quite yet.”

His hand brushes hers on the table, and she can’t look away from his eyes. Then the two exchange students knock at the kitchen door, asking how the meal is coming, and Nancy is disappointed when the moment is broken.

Sunset comes so early, and after spending practically all day with him, she expects Ned to tell her good night and go back to his room. He suggests that they watch a movie in his single room, though, if she’s willing—and threatens to hold the leftover cranberry sauce hostage if she doesn’t agree. They’re both laughing when she says it sounds like fun.

They sit together on his futon, under a comforter, and when she tugs it up over her shoulders he glances over at her. “Cold?”

“Mmm. A little. It’s really time for flannel pants and fuzzy socks, I think.”

He shrugs. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here. You can just hang out in here tonight. I’ll make sure you stay warm.”

She knows she’s blushing when she looks up at him, and he shakes his head when he sees the look on her face. “Not—uh, well, not if you don’t want… oh, God.”

She pats his cheek. “Well, let me go get my pajamas… and we’ll see just how alluring you find my cartoon-cat fleece, sir.”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “Can’t wait,” he murmurs.

As soon as she’s on the balcony outside their suites, she glances up at the dark sky, the snow still floating down, drifting on the wind. “Thanks,” she murmurs with a smile, then hurries back to her room. She doesn’t want to waste a single second of their time together, especially tonight.


End file.
